


You in My Hoodie

by EscapistBehavior



Series: Dnf fics :D [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, George POV, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Oblivious Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Oblivious GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Pining, Romantic Tension, Swearing, flirtatious wilbur soot but he's actually joking, no beta we die like Mexican dream, obligatory george-in-dreams-hoodie fic, unlike certain characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-25 05:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapistBehavior/pseuds/EscapistBehavior
Summary: “We’ve bet money so many times,” Dream said, “why don’t we do something more interesting?”“Do you have something in mind?”“Idon’t. What about you, George, do you have something youwantfrom me?”“You’re such an idiot,” George breathed. He had never been more thankful for the way his camera washed out most of the blush from his face. Actually, scratch that, he ended up that thankful almost every time he talked to Dream on stream.There were a lot of things he wanted from Dream.---George and Dream make a bet that ends up with George wearing Dream's hoodie. Feelings ensue.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Dnf fics :D [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184105
Comments: 23
Kudos: 112





	1. twitter made me do it

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone in this changes their boundaries around shipping/fan fiction this will be deleted.

George was a lost cause. It was a miracle, really, that Dream was somehow so oblivious that he never noticed the change in George’s voice when they spoke, or the way he blushed so much more when Dream flirted with him than with anyone else, or the way George could never really say no to him. That last problem was the reason why George was now figuring out the terms of a bet he had a feeling would come back to bite him in a day’s time.

“We’ve bet money so many times,” Dream said, “why don’t we do something more interesting?” George wasn’t sure how they’d ended up arguing over who’s team would place higher in MCC tomorrow, but neither of them could ever stay away from a friendly bet. Especially with each other. 

“Do you have something in mind?” 

“ _I_ don’t. What about you, George, do you have something you _want_ from me?” 

“You’re such an idiot,” George breathed. He had never been more thankful for the way his camera washed out most of the blush from his face. Actually, scratch that, he ended up that thankful almost every time he talked to Dream on stream.

There were a lot of things he wanted from Dream. 

“N-no, I can’t think of anything…” 

“Ooh, how about we ask twitter to give us ideas!”

 _That’s a_ terrible _idea. We both know the kind of thing our fans will suggest—_ “Alright.”

“Ok, chat! Hashtag, uh, mccbet, go give us your ideas! Go go go!” Dream shouted, and George couldn’t help but laugh a little. _He’s just so cute… goddammit, shut_ up _, brain._

“I’m gonna win, Dream, you better prepare yourself for whatever twitter makes you do.” George’s team was expected to place higher than Dream’s, who’d been put with a bunch of weaker players for balance again, and they both knew it, but Dream would never admit it. 

“Sure, sure. Your team is going to miraculously beat mine and twitter’s wrath will fall on me instead of you, sounds believable.”

Someone joined the discord call. “Oh, what’s that supposed to mean, _Dream_?!” Wilbur shouted, “you think just because you’re so _cool_ and _smart_ and _handsome_ you can beat us? Gogy and I have this in the bag!” George giggled at his teammate’s mock anger. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been disappointed when he wasn’t on the same team as Dream, but as far as Dream-less teams went, Wilbur, Quackity, and Karl was pretty awesome.

“Yeah, Wilbur, I do. My team is going to _destroy_ you four, you don’t stand a chance!” 

“I SWEAR TO _FUCKING_ GOD, DREAM—” Wilbur and Dream’s shouting grew louder and louder while George just sat back, stifling his grin. After a while of aggressive and largely misplaced confidence (and a good deal of angry flirting that _totally_ didn’t bother him), George pulled up twitter. Unsurprisingly, #mccbet was already trending. 

“Alright, enough, why don’t we check the hashtag and find out what Dream’s going to do when he loses?”

“George, _you’re_ gonna lose, but yeah, let’s look.”

“Ok, the most liked suggestion is—” George laughed nervously “—the loser gives the winner one of their personal hoodies.” He tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when he imagined himself wrapped up in one of Dream’s enormous hoodies.

“What?” Dream sputtered. “I-how would that even work, I wouldn’t—wouldn’t fit in one of yours.”

“I mean, I have that huge Dream smile one. That would fit you.”

“This isn’t even that good a bet, it’s… it’s boring, there’s no real stakes!”

“Aw, you won’t do it?” George pouted dramatically to disguise the shard of real disappointment that had lodged itself in his heart.

“Oh, forget him, Gogy, I can give you a hoodie if you want one,” Wilbur cut in. “I could even drop it off in person.” 

George glanced at chat and giggled at a message ( _is wil flirting with dream or george rn i cant keep track_ ). “Really, Wilbur? You’d do that for me?” he joked, his voice low. “I’d—” 

“Whatever,” Dream interrupted, “if that’s really the bet you want to make I’ll do it. It’s still stupid, though.”

George grinned and cursed himself for it. “Cool. See, chat, I’ve got your back, we’re doing the bet you all chose!”

“I can’t wait to try on your hoodie, George.” This was the furthest thing from fair. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” 

Dream laughed. “Sure.”

_I know I would._

***

“Ok, ok, I got the diorite and I’m coming back!” George shouted. 

“Wow, Gogy’s tryharding,” Wilbur laughed.

“Someone really wants that hoodie from Dream…” Karl teased. 

“No! I just want to beat him and prove him wrong!” That wasn’t entirely a lie. George didn’t really _want_ to have to deal with the mess of feelings that having Dream’s hoodie would give him. He was still trying as hard as he could to beat him. He wasn’t about to let Dream beat him just because of a hoodie that he wished he didn’t want. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Quackity said, dragging out the vowels sarcastically.

“You know, if you want a hoodie that bad my offer still stands.”

“I don’t want a hoodie!” George flushed pink. _Ok, enough, George._ He needed to stop caring so much about the stupid bet and get this conversation back under control. “...But if you want to see me in yours so badly I could make an exception.” He normally didn’t flirt this much, but he really needed to stop thinking how close he was to winning the bet. Their team had been just one rank above Dream’s before the last game started, and the timer was almost up. If they’d managed to keep their lead, Dream would be sending him a hoodie. _Why did I let this happen?_

“Oh, _Gogy_ ,” Wilbur giggled, and George rolled his eyes. 

“Ok… polished and then stairs and… here and… there!” George finished off the last build seconds before the game ended. 

The points appeared in the chat and George managed to not react to them too obviously. They’d done it. They’d earned enough points to keep Dream from passing them. The final team rankings followed, and neither Dream’s team nor George’s had made the top two, but he had bigger problems. 

He’d beat Dream.

He’d won the bet. 

He’d won _Dream’s hoodie_.

...which meant nothing. Obviously.

But still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is (I think) gonna be my longest fic so far, not like actually long compared to a lot of writers here but I'm planning for it to be long for my writing. 
> 
> This story is kind of inspired by got a thing about you (and it won't go away) by alltimecharlo, but it's going to be a lot different! It just has some similarities and I probably wouldn't have written this if I didn't read it. If you haven't read it you should, it's really good!
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! If you'd like, leave a comment - compliments, criticism, suggestions for the story, anything really! Your comments give me an unreasonable amount of serotonin, and so does people just reading this at all, so thank you again <3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day :D
> 
> ...if you saw this before I fixed the mistake in the notes, no you didn't


	2. i want to see you

“So, George, did you, uh, get anything in the mail today?” George tensed. He’d been hoping he could manage to go the whole stream without thinking about the box sitting on the floor in his living room. (He’d failed within the first few minutes, of course, but he’d been hoping to go the _rest_ of the stream at the very least.)

“Yeah, yeah, it came. What, were you tracking it, Dream?” George teased, hoping to get at least a little bit of upperhand in a conversation that was definitely going to be clipped everywhere. 

“Well, I mean, I got an email that it arrived today, yeah.”

“Okay.” Chat had already figured out that it was the hoodie, because of course they had. Neither of them had mentioned it since mcc, but their fans hadn’t stopped speculating and drawing and freaking out since they’d made the bet. 

Hopefully that would be the end of the conversation. “Soooo… are you gonna put it on?” _Dammit._

“What, you _want_ me to?”. 

“Oh come on, just do it. What’s the point in sending it otherwise?”

George rolled his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m the one who lost this bet.”

“Just put it on! Come on, George, please?” 

“...fine, I’ll go get it. I’d say entertain chat for me but I feel like they’re already entertained enough.”

George got out of his seat and walked into the living room. He hadn’t opened the box yet. It wasn’t anything special, just a cardboard box with “from Dream” scrawled on it in big black letters. Mcc had only been a week ago, and a part of him had been on the edge of his seat waiting for this. Most of him had been dreading it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. That was the problem; even though it was nothing more than a meaningless joke, George’s heart raced whenever he thought about it. He ran his fingers over Dream’s name. _I wonder if the mailman thought it was a pet name or something. Actually, ‘dream’ would make a really adorable pet name._ George shook his head and tore open the box before he could convince himself not to. Chat was waiting for him. _Dream_ was waiting for him. To put on his hoodie. _How did this happen?_

The first thing that came into George’s mind when he reached into the box and pulled out the hoodie was _it’s so soft._ It was a deep, rich blue (probably), and it was huge, and it was Dream’s. For the first time it really sank in that Dream actually sent him a hoodie. _Not_ for the first time, George thought about how this was totally a couple thing. To be fair, that was kind of the point. The fans suggested it _because_ it was a couple thing. 

And those fans were still waiting for him. It really shouldn’t take this long to put on a hoodie. _This is so stupid, stop thinking about it and just fucking put it on!_

He pulled off his own hoodie and put on Dream’s. He’d imagined this plenty of times even before they made the bet, but obviously he’d wanted to be wearing it for a different reason. Not because of a stupid joke.

It was soft. And warm. And it smelled (he assumed) like Dream. George could feel his face heating up. He tried to hide his face in his hands even though he was alone, but ended up getting a faceful of too-long sleeves instead because this was _Dream’s hoodie._

George pushed himself off of the floor and walked into the bathroom. His reflection was all red cheeks and blue fabric. _Calm down, George. This is so dumb._ He couldn’t risk waiting much longer, everyone must be wondering what was taking him so long. He had to go back. Right now.

George walked back to his room, took a deep breath, and dropped back into his chair. _Just act natural. You can do this._

“ _George…_ ”

“What?” _You_ cannot _say my name like that right now, Dream,_ please _..._

“That, uh, that color suits you.”

“Um, ok, sure.” The red that only just begun to fade from George’s cheeks had returned. 

“You, um,” Dream trailed off. 

“What?” George asked again.

“You look good.” George tried to hide his smile and failed miserably.

“Thank you?” _Goddammit, Dream._

“You’re welcome,” Dream said, just a little too softly, before switching easily back into a joking stream persona. “Thank you, chat!” Dream whispered loudly. George rolled his eyes. “This was such a good idea! Look how _cute_ he is, this was almost worth losing mcc!” 

“You’re so stupid.”

“He’s blushing!”

“I’m not!” He was. He really, _really_ was.

“He’s so red, chat, look.”

“Dream! I am not!”

“Yes you are, _handsome_ ,” Dream wheezed.

“Dream!! What is - ugh…” George covered his face with his hands.

“It’s so big on you!” Dream giggled at the way the sleeves hung from George’s fingers.

“Of course it is, you’re a fucking giant.” 

“No, you’re just tiny.”

“Whatever.” 

Dream didn’t bring up his hoodie again for the rest of the stream, which George was very grateful for, but then he brought it up as soon as the stream stopped, which George had _no_ idea how he felt about at this point. 

“Aw… I don’t get to see you in my hoodie anymore!” Dream whined jokingly. 

“You’re such a _simp_ ,” George said, fidgeting with his long sleeves. 

Dream laughed softly. “Yeah.”

George rolled his eyes even though Dream couldn’t see him. He wasn’t sure whether he hated or loved the way Dream joked about this, about _liking_ him. Because even though George knew it was a joke, sometimes Dream’s flirting would sound… genuine. Real. Sometimes, George would find himself caught up in a mess of wondering and longing and suddenly he was just another fan picking apart Dream’s tone and coming to the conclusion that he was in love with George. It never lasted long; George knew that Dream didn’t have feelings for him and he knew that Dream was straight. But when Dream talked to him like that, when Dream got all flustered and awkward and breathless at the sight of George in his hoodie, the little ever-optimistic voice in his head got louder and louder. 

“George?” Dream’s voice pulled George back to reality.

“Yeah?”

“I said do you wanna play bedwars?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah! Sounds good!”

Dream hesitated. “Are you ok?”

 _Who fucking knows? Not me, certainly._ “Yeah, totally, I just spaced out. I’m all good.”

“Ok, just checking! I’ll send you a party invite.”

“Awesome!”

George reached for his keyboard to accept the invite and saw the long blue sleeves flopping over his fingers.

God, George was a goner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I'm excited to keep working on this story, it's been fun to write!
> 
> I don't have a lot to say today... I mentioned in the notes of a different fic that I thought I might be asexual and yeah, I'm identifying as asexual now! So that's cool. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! If you'd like, leave a comment, I love hearing all of your feedback!! 
> 
> Have a nice day and go drink some water <3


	3. you did it again

George decided not to wear the hoodie ever again. He didn’t send it back, either.

He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to _do_ with his best friends hoodie. They hadn’t talked about it, Dream hadn’t asked for it back or anything, but George wasn’t about to wear his crush’s hoodie without a real reason. He wasn’t that pathetic. 

George knew exactly how it would feel to wear it again. He couldn’t help but remember it whenever he saw the stupid thing sitting on the floor where he’d left it after that day, couldn’t help but remember those waves of blue fabric, that smell he wished was familiar, that warmth wrapped around him like a hug. God, he wished he could hug Dream. That much was realistic, at least. One day this stupid pandemic would be over and he would see him and hug him and it would be so fucking amazing… But that day hadn’t come yet, and all George had was a stupid blue hoodie that he really needed to stop considering putting on. 

So George spent the next two weeks of his life pretending to ignore the hoodie on his bedroom floor. The last thing he wanted was to let himself wear it and imagine and pretend and wallow in his own longing, which he knew he would end up doing if he gave in and put it on. It shouldn’t be too difficult, all he had to do was stick to his decision not to wear it and try his best to forget about Dream’s dumb hoodie. 

He might’ve even managed it if it weren’t for an actual dream. 

***

_Waves crashed onto the shore, lapping at George’s feet. The sky was a clear, beautiful blue, and George couldn’t see a single cloud. What he could see, though, was a tiny green dot peeking over the horizon. As it came closer, he realized it was a grand, old fashioned boat with huge emerald sails, and he could make out a figure standing on the deck. The ship was still too far away to make out who it was, but George knew. He could feel it in his heart. Finally, he’d made it and soon there would be nothing standing between them._

_The ship was even closer now, and the figure’s face became visible. It was the same face George feigned ignorance of to millions, the same face he treasured and longed to see in person for so many years. Dream waved at him from the deck, his grin mirroring George’s own._

_“Dream!” He watched Dream’s mouth open in response, but the sound didn’t reach George. “Dream!” he called again._

_“George!” Dream’s voice was still almost too faint to hear, but he was coming ever closer._

_Then George noticed the clouds rolling in. As if from nowhere, a storm darkened the sky, drowning out Dream’s shouts with the deafening rumble of thunder. George called out again, this time in fear instead of celebration, as the rain began to fall down in sheets. Huge, towering waves rocked Dream’s ship back and forth and he clung to the railing for dear life, unable to do anything but hold on and pray._

_For a moment the roar of the storm seemed to quiet. Time stood almost still as George watched a bolt of lightning arc towards the ship, illuminating those green sails and the terrified expression on his best friend’s face. Then the bolt reached the ship and everything came back, the noise, the rolling sea, the shouting._

_Dream’s boat splintered like kindling and sent him crashing into the waves._

_By the time he realized what he was doing George had dove into the water, swimming past planks and masts and torn green sails, searching, searching… He could just barely make out a hand reaching towards him from the dark ocean below and swam down, trying to grab it, but the faster he swam the further away it seemed to be. He tried to shout out Dream’s name and swallowed lungfuls of water as his vision began to blur. Just as the hand sank too far to see, George felt his own body give out and everything went black._

***

George woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. His thoughts were a roaring mess of fear for Dream, _Dream, I have to help him—_

The sound of Dream snoring came from his phone next to him. On the bed next to him. Not the ocean. Because it was just a nightmare. Dream was safe. Dream was safe. George let out a sigh of relief and waited for his heart to stop pounding.

It didn’t.

You know when you have a really bad dream, and even after you’ve woken up and realized it wasn’t real you still can’t calm down? 

Somehow, the sound of Dream on the call wasn’t enough to reassure him. If Dream was really there he could look over and see him, he could see that he was truly ok, but he wasn’t really there. There was only one part of Dream that was really in his room, and George couldn’t…

George gave in and put it on. He breathed in the smell he wished he could say was familiar and pulled the hood up over his head, trying to wrap as much of himself as he could in the warmth of Dream’s hoodie. _Just for tonight. Just so I can fall asleep._

George crawled into bed, clutching fistfuls of blue fabric, and quickly drifted off to sleep. 

***

“Ok, I’m gonna start the stream now,” George warned Dream and Sapnap before clicking the button to go live. “Hi chat! I’m-” Dream gasped and George stopped talking. “Dream?” 

Dream spoke almost breathlessly. “You’re wearing it.” George’s eyes shot wide open. _Fuck!_ He’d somehow forgotten to take off Dream’s hoodie. _Oh no…_

“Pft, yeah, um. Whatever.” He was about as red as a tomato. How could he be so careless? 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you wear that since you got it.”

He’d told himself he’d take it off when he woke up, and then when he woke up he’d told himself he’d take it off before he streamed, and by the time he had to go live he’d gotten so comfortable in it that he’d sort of forgotten what exactly he was wearing. What the fuck was wrong with him? “Yeah, well. I have other hoodies.”

“But you look so good in mine, George!” _What?!_ George tried to stop his eyes from flying open again and his mouth from grinning like an idiot and his face from flushing even darker. He failed on all three fronts, but it only took him a moment to school his expression back to normalcy (he’d had practice). 

“That’s getting clipped, you stupid simp.”

“I don’t care, it’s true.”

“ _Dream_ , you- I- ugh, whatever.”

“ _That’s_ getting clipped, idiot!” Dream wheezed. 

“Shut up!” 

“I will if you promise to wear it more often.”

“...what?” _What the actual fuck?_

“Come on,” Dream lowered his voice but spoke in a joking tone, because _obviously_ he was joking, George, stop jumping to conclusions, “for me?” 

“Sure, Dream,” George answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “I’ll wear your hoodie if you _want_ me to.”

“I want you to.”

George was saved from having to produce any kind of rational response from his deeply panicked brain by Sapnap groaning loudly. “Oh my _god_ , can you two stop flirting for five seconds?”

“Blame Dream, he’s the one asking me to wear his hoodie!”

“Well, George is wear—” Dream seemed to change his mind about what to say mid sentence “—is just so cute in it, I can’t resist!”

 _Oh god oh no-_ George really didn’t think he could take much more of this. “Wow, I didn’t think it would be possible to make you simp any harder. All it takes is a hoodie?” 

“I’m just, uh, I'm just stating a fact, George. You’re, you’re _objectively_ cute.”

George knew he was grinning now, and he had half a mind to try and stop given that his every reaction was being streamed to forty thousand people, but his brain was functioning about as well as a mug made of toilet paper. “Thank you,” he managed to say without giggling like a lovestruck idiot. 

“You’re welcome,” Dream said almost softly, and _fuck_ , George was absolutely a lovestruck idiot, giggles or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first draft of this chapter was VERY different. Instead of making George be just scared for Dream, he originally had a nightmare about Dream not liking him (at all, not just not liking him romantically) centered around George feeling like Dream didn't trust him since he hadn't shown him his face. It was a mess of projection and anxiety and hurt/comfort (once George woke up), all very on brand for me lmao, and I actually really liked it, but it really didn't fit the vibe or pacing of the rest of the story so I decided to redo it pretty much completely. If I hadn't, the scene on stream probably would've been in chapter 4, so the bright side is you get the fluffy flustered flirting early! 
> 
> I think I might polish up and add to the first draft of this chapter and make it a separate oneshot, like I said it didn't fit the vibe but it wasn't at all _bad_. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! If you want, leave a comment and let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Also go drink some water! <3


	4. why am i doing this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unsent letter from Dream to George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a change from the either chapters but I was feeling a little (a lot) stuck and thought this might be a good way to get some ideas flowing. Enjoy!

Dear George,

This is stupid, isn’t it. It’s not like I’m ever gonna send this letter, god no, but I feel like if I don’t say this somewhere it’s just gonna slip out soon. So, I love you. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. I love your stupid laugh and your stupid face and your stupid heart and your stupid everything. 

Normally it’s not this hard. I don’t really mind being in love with you, I get to be your best friend and spend so much time with you and make you smile and I really couldn’t ask for more. (Obviously I could ask for more. But I don’t _need_ to.) But it’s been harder recently. I know why. It was my fault, really, I got jealous and I did something stupid and now here we are. 

(Yes, George, I was jealous that you, a straight man, were flirting with Wilbur, who is _also_ straight. I know it’s stupid. But that _is_ why I agreed to the bet. Why, past Dream, why)

You wore my hoodie for the third time today. Of course I’ve been keeping track. I mean, three isn’t a lot, but I have a feeling I’ll be keeping track long past reasonable numbers. I can’t help it. I knew exactly what this would do to me, and I did it anyways. I knew what this would do because I’ve seen all the fanart and then I saw the whole thing about my oversized merch hoodie (ok, I’ll admit here and nowhere _fucking_ else that I might have mentioned that on stream because I wanted to see the art. It’s cute, ok?! God _dammit_ I’m an idiot) and I’d imagined it a million times, to be honest, because wouldn’t that be a dream come true? For me. Not for you, obviously. Which is why I _really_ shouldn’t have sent it at all. 

What I said about being afraid something would just slip out? I don’t know why I made that sound like speculation, it’s already happening. I mean, so much has just slipped out over the years, just ask the youtube compilations, but like. Worse. I didn’t mean to say half the shit I said when you wore my hoodie for the first time, or the second. Or today. Something about it just makes my brain stop working. I just want to tell you how fucking gorgeous you always look, and I just can’t asldkfa;kdfjhaskdfjhasdfkj;;;;;;;;;;

Ok. Composure. Let’s go. 

This is so dumb.

The truth is keeping this all bottled up is so frustrating. Because normally if something was ever bothering me I’d go to you, but I can’t go to you, not about this. 

And I’d go to you with every good thing that happens, too. Like the way you smiled today when I said you looked cute. The first time you were so embarrassed, and the second time you looked mortified after you realized what you were wearing (it seemed like you forgot, what does _that_ mean? Do you wear it so often that you got used to it? Does it just mean so little to you that it slipped your mind?), but today you just looked _happy_. You blushed a little, you did that cute little laugh you sometimes do when people flirt with you. Maybe you don’t get compliments often enough. I mean, you have countless simps posting compilations of you looking hot or cute or pretty, so… don’t ask me how I know that. Whatever, it made you happy, so maybe I’ll do it again? Anything to make you smile, George. God, I’m so stupid. 

I guess if I can’t really talk to you this is the next best thing. I mean I _could_ tell someone else, like I could rant to Sapnap about how fucking in love I am, but I don’t want him to know. I don’t want it to be weird, you know? I’m sure he’d be fine about it (I mean, have you seen the way he talks to Karl? XD), but I don’t want anyone else to know who could slip up or make more pointed jokes or maybe even try to set us up or something.

A lot of fans think he already knows, because he knows me. Well, they tend to think he knows about _both_ of us because he knows _us_ and because they think you like me back. But they’re wrong. I think they’re wrong about all of that except for me, I don’t think Sapnap’s figured out how I feel. Or maybe he has. Fuck, who knows. I know I’m pretty obvious. I’m still not quite sure how _you_ haven’t noticed it. Sometimes I even think you have, because how could you not have, but you’re just a little too comfortable with everything to know, I think. The flirting and the jokes and the Fundy wedding and the hoodie… I don’t think you’d be ok with all that if you knew. I don’t think we’d be the same if you knew.

I’m sure it would be ok. Maybe. Ok, sure is a stretch. I’m sure you wouldn’t, like, be mad at me or anything, I’m sure you’d _try_ to make it work, but I just don’t know if it _would_ work. It would be weird, right? To know that your best friend is hopelessly in love with you?

Aghghhghgghghghghgghg no this got all sad and mopey that wasn’t the point. 

I kind of just want to talk about it here. To talk about how much I love you. I love the way you yell and complain and bitch all the time but as soon as someone needs you you’re there. I love all of your laughs, I love the quiet ones and the loud ones and the embarrassed ones. I love the way you talk in your sleep, it’s so fucking cute, George. I love that I get to hear it. I love that I was lucky enough to have such an amazing best friend. I love those late nights of us coding together, trying to find mistakes and laughing at each other and helping each other and fucking up the test server. I love how often you talk about coming to America, how much you want the pandemic to just be over already. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see you, to hold you, to sit together on the sofa and run into you in the hallway and hear you screaming at a video game from the other room. 

Soon. It better be fucking soon. 

Vaccines are coming out and restrictions are relaxing and maybe soon you can come. God, I want to be happy for Karl and Quackity whenever they meet up but I miss you. We’ve never even had more than what we have now, actually we’re closer than we’ve ever been, but it still feels like missing you. 

Oops. Sad again. 

It’ll be soon. I’m sure it’ll be soon. 

God, what am I gonna do when you’re here? To be fair, if you haven’t caught on yet I don’t think being in person will change all that much. I think I’ll be too happy to care. 

You’re gonna move in with us eventually. I’m going to see you, in real fucking life, every single day. We’re gonna live in the same house! I am so fucking excited, George. Askdjadkjfshdlfkjshdflskdjfhsldfjhslakjhdsfja;sdalsdjf

Putting this into words is harder than I thought it would be. There’s just so much to say. You’re fucking amazing, George. I love you so much, as a friend, as more, as whatever. Even if I didn’t love you romantically I think I’d still be in awe of you. So kind, and smart, and funny, and cute, and hot, yeah, and _everything_. You’re everything to me. I’m so fucking lucky to have you in my life. 

All my love,

Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, not a normal chapter. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do and I thought it might be fun to get Dream's perspective in, idk. Did you like it or does it not fit? Let me know, I'm still kind of figuring out what I want for this fic. 
> 
> If you guys have any suggestions for things that could happen I'd actually appreciate it, I'm forcing myself to stretch out the flirting and pining and tension because I have a bad habit in my writing of just skipping between important points and not doing any of the build up but now I'm not sure what to actually fill the space between now and the next development _with_... I have a couple ideas but if you guys have anything you want to see me write let me know!
> 
> Or just what you thought about the story so far, like I said your comments and support mean a lot to me! 
> 
> Have a nice day! I gtg take an AP US history test fml

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like, leave a comment - compliments, criticism, suggestions for the story, anything really! Your comments give me an unreasonable amount of serotonin, and so does people just reading this at all, so thank you again <3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day :D


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